


In Bed with Red

by L122YTorch (orphan_account)



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3610437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/L122YTorch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title says it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Keen struggled for her life in her dreams.

Dembe and Red were next door, and upon hearing Liz scream, they burst into her room, guns drawn.

In the dim light, Red could see that Liz was dreaming so he waved Dembe off and put away his gun. 

Carefully he walked over to Liz’s bedside.   
All of their nerves were on edge for this Op. The blacklister they sought was nothing short of a monster. Red wondered if that’s what Liz’s dream was about.  
Gently he put a hand on her shoulder. “Lizzie,” he said, shaking her gently. Her face was twisted in pain and drenched in sweat. Her body struggled in an imaginary fight. But with a more assertive, “Lizzie,” she awoke.  
“Red?” she said breathlessly. He nodded as he stood over her, rubbing small circles with his thumbs into her sweaty shoulder. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he reassured. 

It was bizarre to hear such a level of soft concern in his voice - to feel his rough hands gently calming her hot flesh. 

As reality sunk in, she suddenly felt embarrassed at the fact that she had apparently woken up the entire floor. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she reassured, “go back to bed.” 

But even in the dark room she could read the concern on his face. 

“Can I stay?” he asked, catching her completely off guard. He hovered over her, moving his hand on her shoulder to brush the matted hair from her face. 

She opened her mouth and let out a small “uh..” sound, to which he responded with, “good.”   
He removed himself from her personal space and crossed the room to the other side of the bed. He wore a long sleeve silk pullover and dark flannel pants. She watched as his form moved, and felt the bed sink under his weight. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he whispered once he was settled under the covers. 

“No,” she shook her head, worrying her bottom lip in her teeth. He was on his side, facing her, so close that she could feel his body heat. She didn’t realize just how close he was until she turned on her left side, so she could go back to sleep, and came face to face with him.

It scared her, the intensity with which he studied her face. He was wide awake, watching over her, with adoration hidden somewhere behind his eyes. 

“Can you scoot over?” she asked. 

“Of course,” he said, rolling over so that his back would face her. But oddly enough, she found herself immediately missing his proximity. So she scooted towards him, bringing her body up against his back. 

She could scarcely feel him breathing, probably because his breath caught in his throat. She put an arm around him and he took the liberty of grasping and holding her hand. 

“Goodnight Lizzie,” he said, his voice filled with restrained emotion and gravel. 

+++


	2. Chapter 2

It must have been around 4am when she began to whine in her sleep. At some point in the night, Red had ended up on his back and Lizzie had managed to drape herself over him.   
He slept lightly, so he immediately reacted to her second nightmare.  
“Lizzie,” he said.  
“Red?”  
“I’m here…” he said, brushing her hair.   
She awoke fully. Again embarrassed due to the fact that she was wrapped around Red. This time it was her hand that rubbed circles in his chest. She was beyond grateful for his presence.   
“Sorry about squishing you,” she said in a near whisper, scooting back, again on her left side. Red was still on his back, but Liz tugged at his farthest shoulder until he faced her.  
Her expression was shrouded and difficult to discern, but her movements spoke volumes. She was so unbearably close to him, their bodies touched, her breath skating over his face.   
She repeated his name like a plea. “Red…”   
Her left hand moved over his chest and her right moved down his arm and to his hip.   
“Lizzie, what are you doing?” he asked in a whisper.   
But she ignored his question, moving her head to rest in the crook of his neck. She kissed the flesh she found there, letting her tongue swirl over the scar of where she had stabbed him.   
“Lizzie,” he said in a growl.   
“Red,” she replied, her hands running beneath his pajamas, her face now hovering in front of his.   
Gently, she kissed him. Her lips melted into his and she savored the minty taste of toothpaste mingled with scotch. At first he didn’t respond, but soon couldn’t resist. His bow-strung mouth parted and his body vibrated as Lizzie explored him with her tongue. His hand moved to her waist and he grabbed the flesh he found there - afraid that she would disappear.   
A moan vibrated in his throat and her hips involuntarily rocked forward, meeting with Red’s growing erection.   
Alarm bells blared in his mind as he allowed himself to travel into unknown territory.

Her body was a hot furnace that burned bright against his flesh. She tasted sweet and her skin was so sinfully soft. He couldn't help but dig his fingers into her flesh. Both to make sure that she was fully awake and to convince himself that it wasn't a dream. 

Once they broke apart he dared ask … "you do know what you're doing, right Lizzie?" 

His words were loaded with lust and caution, but his hands continued to roam. He had reached the supple flesh of her breasts and relished their fullness in his hands. She groaned in appreciation as he kissed her neck and massaged her breasts, running thumbs over the soft peaks of her nipples. 

Arousal bloomed in the space between her legs and she savored the feel of his skilled hands on her breasts.

She still hadn't answered him, which concerned him.

"Lizzie," he whispered in her ear, stopping. "I need your permission." 

The question brought a sudden gravity to the situation. She couldn't remain between wake and sleep as she considered Red's words. As much as her body longed for him, she had to ask herself if this was a good idea. And all signs pointed to the fact that it wasn't.

He felt her still beneath his hands, and immediately removed them. "I'm sorry Lizzie, I shouldn't have gone so far before asking…" he moved as if to remove himself from the bed, but her arm reached out and snagged him.

"Stay Red, please," she pleaded. Her bright eyes visible, even in the darkness. 

He plastered a smile over his alarm and agreed to stay.

"I'll return, I promise Lizzie," he said, before getting up and going to the bathroom. 

The click of the light switch was loud in the small room. And the inescapable flood of light brought reality crashing down on him.

He suppressed a fresh wave of terror as he considered the implications of his actions. And as far as he wanted to push what he couldn't have from his mind, he needed it to stroke himself and get rid of this erection.

Her lips were so fucking sweet, her skin pale and soft, her moans were indelibly burned into Red's memory. She tasted better than the finest bottle of wine, she was more beautiful than the blood orange sunset over the white sandy beaches in the Caribbean, more exhilarating than the most dangerous heist. It was so easy to get swept away into her. 

He washed his hands and later emerged from the bathroom to climb back into bed. 

Her back was to him, but when he lay down, she scooted back - towards him. She wanted him to hold on to her, and he obliged. 

It was a reflex, the urge to pull her close, to protect her, to…care for her. He breathed in the lavender scent of her hair and willed himself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning began with the patter of rain spitting against the hotel window. Deep rumbles of thunder shook Liz from her sleep. 

The room was still dark due to the swirling mass of gray clouds outside. Every minute or so, bright flashes of light would tear through the dim room and illuminate the space around her. 

She yawned and rolled over, noticing that the was alone. 

Suddenly, panic ripped through her as flashbacks from last night flooded her memory. "Shit," she whispered as she wondered just how much damage she had done to their relationship.

If anything, she found her growing affection for Red alarming. She ignored it, wrote it off as ridiculous, told herself it must be some residual effect of the trauma she had so recently experienced. 

But when Red was shot three months ago…when she watched him fall to the ground…and ran to his side despite being only moments away from writing him off forever…she knew. She knew that their connection was deeper than she had imagined.

Things had been tense after that for a few months. They rarely spoke, he gave her room, only coming to her aid when her life was in serious jeopardy - hence the trauma.

Her life hung in the balance as the Stalker, another blacklister, tortured her for two days. The sick psycho got off on others' pain, and if Red had been just an hour later than he was in finding her, he would have walked in to see her corpse.

The experience was beyond haunting. 

Luckily, Red got to her before he could…

Anyway, Red reached the Stalker before the FBI and the Stalker conveniently disappeared after that. Red was also not seen for the next week. She suspected that he had taken the sicko and slowly tortured him to death. 

The FBI was peeved that they never got a hold of the Stalker. They suspected that Red had him, but couldn't prove it. After a flurry of paperwork, they decided that all that mattered was the fact that the Stalker was off the street.

She never asked Red about what he did with the Stalker, and she never told him the truth about just what happened in that cellar.

Just thinking about it now made her stomach turn. She sat up in bed and tried to take deep breaths to steady herself. 

So much had happened since she joined the task force, and so quickly that she rarely had time to process it all. Unfortunately it was all catching up to her now. The Stalker was the straw that broke the camel's back. She wondered if it would be better to seek out a therapist or just to talk to Red.

She wondered if Red knew the truth about how close the Stalker had come to raping her. 

A knock on the door jarred Keen from her thoughts. It was Dembe. She was still propped up on her arms in bed but she said "come in." 

He cracked the door open and stuck his head in. "Good morning Agent Keen," he started. "Mr. Reddington wanted me to inform you that his meeting with Blackstone went well. He would like to know if you plan on flying back to D.C. with him or with the team."

"God…how early did they meet?"

"Five a.m." 

"Geeze. Well…" she hesitated. "Let him know that since it's only a three hour flight, I'll fly back with the team. But thank him…for the offer." 

"Sure thing," Dembe nodded, then disappeared.

Liz was grateful for the three hours in the air she would get to clear her head. She was grateful that the FBI had managed to put a stop to the most recent blacklister and get a head start on the next, all in one trip. And she was especially grateful that Red had put them up in a nice hotel that had decent coffee.

She shrugged the sheets off her body and walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. The three shower heads in the stone enclave were nothing less than blissful. The breakfast was delicious, the decor was spot on, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wished she could stay here longer. 

Aside from the low hanging cloud of smog that clung to the Denver skyline, she really liked this city. 

As she gathered her things and stepped out of her room she saw Restler coming down the hallway. "Perfect timing," he said, "you ready?"

"Yep."

They fell in step as they walked over to the elevator. He pressed the button and looked at her. "Why didn't you fly back with Reddington?"

She tried to conceal her surprise as she looked back at him. "I don't know…I figured that it's a short flight, and I didn't want you to suffer on a commercial flight all by yourself."

"How thoughtful," he grinned, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button.

They made light conversation throughout the trip to the airport and Liz was grateful for their uncomplicated partnership. 

She knew that he could sense something was "off" with her, but as always, he let her work at her own pace. He didn't pressure her, didn't ask why she looked so tired, or fish for details of what happened with the Stalker. He was just there for her.

It was a stark contrast to her relationship with Red. She and Red were…complicated. And she only worsened that problem by kissing him last night. Something that she couldn't shake from her mind the entire flight. 

God…he tasted so good, he felt so good up against her, his voice shook her soul, and when she replayed the scene from last night, she would get goosebumps. 

The entire flight, Restler slept and she waged a mental war with herself. 

Liz was frustrated that she had allowed her feelings for Red to deepen so much. She struggled to remember just when she became so enthralled with him. She should be mad at him, hate him, be furious. He put Tom in her life and she still didn't know her connection to him. 

He was a never-ending well of lies and secrets and yet…she felt safe with him. Which made absolutely no sense. He was a criminal after all. 

"I can practically smell the smoke from the gears turning in your head," Restler said, his head lulling toward Keen, his eyes still shut. 

She cleared her throat out of embarrassment. 

"It's okay," he mumbled, prying open his sticky sleepy eyes. "You don't have to talk about anything. Just know that I'm here for you."

"I know," she smiled. 

"Please put your seats and tray tables in the upright position. Attendants, prepare for arrival," the familiar voice came over the intercom.

Restler propped his seat back up and looked out the window. The outskirts of DC sprawled out beneath them. And as much as Liz didn't want to…it was time to come down from the clouds and get back to reality.


End file.
